


Town of Promise

by SirSpectre (RandomUsername13)



Series: The Town of Promise [1]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: All the fun BS that comes with the Seeds, All the fun things that come with FC5, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:22:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26297119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomUsername13/pseuds/SirSpectre
Summary: A crazy cult leader was dead, his main accomplices arrested, and one by one peggies were either shot down or met the same fate as their heralds. The valley was free, they’d fucking won. Not everything had gone to plan, but it was a hard fought victory, a satisfying victory. No last minute surprise apocalypses, no years spent in a bunker questioning actions done, just sweet relief of months of hell finally ending.Then Asher Rook got sent into Witness Protection.---------------------------------------------AU in which the Dep arrested the Heralds instead and intended to arrest Joseph Seed only to accidentally kill him cause, y'know, bliss, and then post-everything instead of an apocalypse, he gets sent into WitSec.
Series: The Town of Promise [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1910707
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Town of Promise

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long while back and debated ever posting or continuing but then I figured... why not? So I hope you enjoy!

Asher Rook hadn’t known what to expect when they all headed into Hope County, but not even his, at the time, worst nightmares could have predicted the following onslaught. It had been tough and had left scars both physical and mental that they’d all be nursing for years. Hopefully for the surviving Seed brothers, those scars would never fully heal. 

It had been a spur of the moment decision. When Rook went up in that plane after John, killing the son of a bitch had been the only thought on his mind, but when on the ground with a rifle aimed at him… A thought crossed his mind he couldn’t shake, and he changed aim just enough. Growing up in the backwoods of Montana, you end up shooting a lot of guns. Pair that with police training and you can become quite the shot. A good enough shot to know just how to incapacitate a lunatic who tattooed the word ‘wrath’ into your chest. 

It had been a long walk back to Fall’s End, and his decision wasn’t exactly met with cheers. But it was respected enough for John to find himself patched up enough to avoid death a while longer and tied up in a backroom. Mary May was quick enough to confront Rook about the whole deal, but her confusion and anger quickly faded when a cold hardened look met her own eyes and the words ‘Death was too good for him’ left the Junior Deputy’s lips. 

It was quickly followed by a snort as the Deputy cracked a smile and mentioned the idea of John stuck rotting away in a jail cell was also just too good to pass up on. 

  
  


Word travelled through the Resistance easily enough, so it wasn’t much of a surprise to those at the Hope County Jail when Rook walked back in with a battered, but alive, Faith in his arms. The idea that death was too good for these ‘heralds’, too easy of a let off, was enough to assuage most disharmony and keep Faith Seed alive alongside the jail’s new resident John. 

The aforementioned word hadn’t reached Peggie ears though. And with each capture, brought another teary announcement from Joseph- mourning the death of a sibling. Afterall, what else could have happened with a wrath filled deputy on the loose, leaving only destroyed bunkers and free settlements behind? 

  
  


The Whitetails had been… harder though. It took everything Rook had to not empty a clip into Jacob’s head for what had been done to him, to the whitetails, to _Eli_. But his words had reached Eli’s ears too, and the leader of the Whitetails got quite a chuckle out of the idea of Jacob being brought down and locked helplessly behind bars. So Rook found the strength, and dragged the last herald back to the jail.

He had been three for four, of course everything had to fall out of hand at the end. HIs friends blissed out of their brains- hell, all of them blissed out to be honest after Joseph threw all of those barrels on the ground- there were too many moving pieces, too much rage and hurt and desperation in one area and… A few too many shots, a bit too much blood lost. 

Joseph Seed had died. 

No one was disappointed by the news, no, but the news spread _fast_ and all of the remaining peggies worked themselves up into a fervor… there were quite a few losses before the national guard got there in time to settle everything down. But, a crazy cult leader was dead, his main accomplices arrested, and one by one peggies were either shot down or met the same fate as their heralds. The valley was free, they’d fucking _won_ . A hard fought victory, a _satisfying_ victory. No last minute surprise apocalypses, no years spent in a bunker questioning actions done, just sweet relief of months of hell finally ending. 

  
  


Then Asher Rook got sent into Witness Protection.

* * *

  
  


Asher was… far from happy about this whole situation. He’d spent months in Hope County, surviving the most impossible bullshit- saving the whole fucking county pratically singled handed- but a few peggies unaccounted and their numbers being ‘too vague for comfort’ meant he had to leave everyone and everything for a town in the middle of nowhere. 

Promise. The town was called _Promise_ . Real creative name for a town of people in witsec. For Asher it caused his throat to tighten each time he heard the name, remembering the promises he made. The promise to stay. The promise to help. The promise to _protect_ them, even after it was all over. The whole county had gone through hell, and had bonded over it, they’d found strength in each other during it. He’d gotten through many half-slept nights, many questionings of hope, many battles, and far too many experiences fighting the effects of the bliss by imagining rebuilding the county when it was all over. Helping everyone make it a home again, making a home for himself there. Keeping the valley united and safe again.

And now he was in a fucking town called fucking Promise, in a nice little halfway home with yellow siding and baby blue walls sharing it with an assigned therapist because they declared him a ‘special case’ and to be kept on a ‘watch list’. At least the therapist was nice enough and pretended not to notice him sneaking kitchen knives up to his room to keep under his pillow, even though they didn’t want him having any weapons at all. Also they weren’t a half-bad cook, so it wasn’t a total loss. 

It was just… so quiet. So… calm and peaceful and… It made his skin crawl and made him antsy. No gunfire in the distance, no crazed shouts of the fanatic, nothing but… small town life and quiet. 

He never thought he’d eventually hate the quiet. 

  
  


Asher grimmanced, kicking his dufflebag back under the bed and drawing the blinds closed, hiding the small road and trees beyond from view once more. They’d only been in the town for a little over a week now, his therapist, Casey, had taken him on a car tour of the town a day after they arrived but… in all honesty Asher hadn’t left the house since. It was too unfamiliar, he didn’t know the places to duck into or hide in well enough- or the places a peggie, or god forbid one of the chosen or hunters, could be hiding in. Casey had smiled politely enough when he denied the offers to go on foot tours or go grocery shopping with them, and hadn’t pressed the issue- but hadn’t stopped asking either. She also kept opening all the goddamn blinds, filling the house with sunlight and making it exposed. Far too vulnerable for a sniper shot or a well shot arrow. When confronting them about it though, all she said was something about conquering the smaller fears first or something. 

Taking a deep, slow breath, Asher made sure the blind was completely closed before turning to leave his room, carefully unlocking the door and listening for a second before slipping out into the smell of sizzling bacon and eggs. Casey didn’t even look up from the pan as he carefully settled himself down into a chair, tapping the table gently to make sure she knew he was there. That rule was quickly put into place the second Casey realized how easy it was for Ash to sneak in unheard. 

  
  


“Good morning, rest well?” She spared him a quick glance over the shoulder with the question, glancing over his face for any signs of discomfort before returning to breakfast.

  
  


“Well enough,” Rook shifted his chair ever so slightly to be a bit more out of view of the open kitchen window, crossing his arms and tapping his foot against the ground. It was always too quiet, and it wasn’t like they could turn on a radio or anything, not with the slightest possible chance of-

He cut that thought off as quick as he could to try and avoid the stab of pain through his skull that came whenever he even thought the _name_ of that song. Brainwashing and conditioning, man, wasn’t as easy to kick as he hoped. 

  
  


“Good, not too many nightmares I hope?” There was a soft click as the oven was turned off and the meal was moved onto plates. Casey sat across from him, sliding his plate over and offering a calm smile- waiting for his answer before eating. 

“Not as many as usual at least,” Rook didn’t wait, immediately taking a mouthful. He’d gotten through on burned fish and canned peaches for long enough that he felt he had earned his lack of patience. And, lucky for him, none of the Seeds had been particularly into poisoning any food. He avoided the bacon though until he spotted the packet for it sticking out of the trash. Better safe than cannibal. 

“That’s certainly an improvement,” Casey commented idly, “Coming out to lunch with me today?”

“No, no, I’d rather try out a new recipe from that book you bought me- still readjusting to a proper kitchen and the like, y’know?” Rook quickly supplied, taking another bite to buy himself some time. “I’ve been enjoying just getting a chance to relax. “

“I’m glad you’re picking up some hobbies, cooking can be very relaxing.” Casey smiled, “Still, you should take a break. There’s a place I think you’d like nearby, right up your alley.”

“I uh, was actually planning on unpacking and getting comfortable with the layout of the house.” Rook quickly answered, “I haven’t really settled in yet so… I was hoping to do that tonight.”

“You’ve been cooped up, Asher, it’ll do you some good to come out just this once to ensure you don’t end up isolating yourself inside here.” Casey reached over, placing a hand on his arm- it taking all of his self control to not yank away. She definitely noticed him flinch though, pulling away her hand after giving his arm a soft squeeze. “I think it’ll make you feel better, honestly. It’ll help give you a bit of a layout of the town as well, which could also give you some peace of mind.” 

Rook stared at her for a moment, taking a slow deep breath before putting down his fork and pushing his plate to the side. 

“What if I said no?” He asked, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair. 

“Then as your handler I’d have to ask you to reconsider.” Casey smiled back, the two staring each other down for a short moment that felt like an eternity. 

  
  


“If I go out tonight, you let me keep the blinds however I like and I’m allowed to take a knife with me.” Rook finally offered, relaxing his shoulders. 

“You get to keep the upstairs and front blinds however you want and I’ll let you take a knife- as long as you keep it out of sight.” Casey counter-offered, smile never wavering. Rook took a deep breath before nodding, returning to finish off the last of his breakfast. 

“Now, if you don’t mind, I have some dishes to clean and a recipe to go over.” Rook smiled, picking up his plate as he stood, giving her a nod before heading to the sink. He didn’t miss her small smile as he left, shaking his head a tiny bit as he washed the plate off and put it away. He didn’t wait long to head upstairs and close his door, double checking the blinds before grabbing his duffle bag and sitting down on the bed. 

He pulled out that old familiar switchblade with the polished white oak handle and the copper trim. Rook couldn’t help but smile as he popped the blade open, spinning it in his hand for a second before pulling out a small whetstone and getting to work on sharpening it. He needed to make sure he was ready for tonight. 

* * *

Rook was already cursing himself for agreeing to this as he and Casey headed down the brightly lit streets towards wherever Casey planned for them to go to for dinner. The knife hidden against the small of his back was comforting, but barely enough to keep him from feeling like a deer in the headlights. It was too unfamiliar, maybe she had a point in suggesting he get a beat on the town but he would have prefered to do that in the middle of the day with a bow in his hands and an AR on his back… and maybe one of Hurk’s rocket launchers or two. Yeah, that would make him feel safer. 

But no, all he had was a small knife hidden against the small of his back and a far too open and unfamiliar street at sunset. Too different from Fall’s End. As If she could hear his thoughts, Casey reached over and placed a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze and offering him a smile. 

“We’re almost there, you’re gonna like it- I’m certain.” She pat his arm in a comforting gesture that unfortunately fell a little flat. Rook forced a smile, shoving his hands into his pockets and keeping an eye on the shadows. Like that’d do any good, half the time Jacob’s hunters came after him he never even saw them until there was an arrow in his leg and bliss in his blood. 

The worst part wasn’t just that he was unfamiliar with the place- that the forests and distant mountains didn’t offer him any comfort- it was the fact he was there alone. No Jess to watch his back, no Grace to get him out of a bind, no Boomer to let him know where danger was, no- well the point is clear. He was alone in an unsafe place with someone constantly trying to insist it was safe. May as well be stuck with Faith trying to recruit him again. No, no, the peggies weren’t trying to kill him or anyone. We’re a friendly cult- promise! 

He paused for a beat, glancing around a little for any sign of sparks or flowers- anything that would suggest this actually was a plan of Faith’s, only to force himself to continue on. Faith was manipulative, but even she wouldn’t dare to make an illusion of Joseph dying- and the Bliss was supposed to make you happy, not miserable and paranoid. 

  
  


“We’re here.” Casey stopped, turning to look at Rook and gesturing to what could only be described as a dive bar with the sign ‘Fireside Bar’ above the door. It was no Spread Eagle but… He couldn’t deny it was a comforting sight. He could feel the tension unwillingly drain from his body at the sight, a part of him expecting to hear Mary May asking him what he was just lurking outside for or at least that one guy gushing over the arcade game that was somehow still working. 

“Thoughts?” 

“More up my alley, no doubt.” Rook nodded, shaking his head a little to banish those thoughts. He may never see or hear any of that again, he needed to stop dwelling on it and start trying to move forward. 

“I thought it would be, shall we?” She offered him her arm, making him snort but he accepted it and followed her inside. God, the smell and sounds the second they entered was familiar, felt _safe_. He took a deep breath, doing a quick survey of the room regardless. 

Booths lined up against the wall opposite the bar, only one in the corner completely full. The bar lined with stools, the most crowded area at the moment. The few tables off to the left with a few of the more homely looking folks who came there more to eat than drink. Kitchen in the back with one old male cook and a younger woman helping him. Behind the bar a young but tired looking man dealing with patrons. 

Nothing too threatening yet. 

  
  


“I’ll go grab us a table, would you mind ordering for us?” Casey placed a hand on his arm to pull him out of his thoughts. “Just ask them for Casey’s regular, I’ve come here enough times that they know it now. Get whatever you want, my treat ok?”

“Yeah, ok.” Rook nodded, forcing a smile and watching her head off towards the tables before sighing and heading up to the bar. He moved next to a brunette who was already ordering what sounded like another round of drinks to get the barman’s attention after, accidentally jostling her as he tried to avoid a snoozing patron on a stool next to her. 

“Shit, sorry ‘bout that.” He mumbled, moving back a little as she gave him a quick glance.

“Eh, no problem- holy shit, Ash?!” The woman whirled around, eyes wide and fixed on him. Rook blinked at her for a moment, taking in the short curly brown undercut- the scar across her cheek-

“...Alice?” He could feel his brows furrowing and eyes growing wide like her own. A smile quickly split across her face and arms were tightly around him, lifting him up into the air- making him struggle for a second before he recognized it as a hug. 

“Asher! What the ever loving _fuck_ are you doing here?” He was put down gently but quickly, Alice’s eyes, _comforting familiar safe,_ searching his face quickly. “No, seriously, why are you here?”

“Well, I had to get dinner somewhere and-” He couldn’t stop the grin creeping across his own face as she rolled her eyes and gently punched his arm. 

“Ash, really, why the fuck are you in Promise? Jokes for later, I’ve missed those, but seriously.” Alice gave him another look over, brows pinching together and mouth tightening in the same way they did when she heard he skipped breakfast again and got maybe three hours of sleep. 

Ash opened his mouth only to quickly close it again when he caught Casey’s eye in the distance, the woman looking confused but happy with this result and already starting to make her way over. 

“I, uh, I don’t know if I’m allowed to talk about that- maybe you should ask my handler who will be here in just a second.” Ash forced a smile that came out more as a grimmance as he met Alice’s gaze again. Alice looked a mix of shocked and indignant, squinting at his eyes to look for any hint of humor and whirling around when she didn’t find any- Casey stumbling as Alice’s gaze zoned in on her. 

Alice turned back to Ash, the indignant shock on her face quickly fading to worry. 

“What happened to you?” She asked, voice uncharacteristically soft. 

  
  


Before he could answer, Casey slid up to them, tilting her head a bit to the side as she met them with a slightly uncomfortable smile. 

“Ah, hello Asher, I see you’re making friends here…?” Her statement quickly trailed off into a question, expression growing doubtful as Alice stared at her with enough intensity to burn holes. 

“Yeah, Alice, long time friend of Ash, was a little worried when I didn’t get a letter reply and now pretty fucking terrified about it.” Ash couldn’t help but shrink a little at this, pulling a face and looking pointedly away from the two in front of him. 

“Ah… nice to meet you Alice, I’m Casey it’s good to meet you.” Casey moved to offer a hand only to rethink it at the last second and let it drop. “So, how do you two know each other? I don’t think Asher has mentioned you to me before.”

“How ‘bout this, I tell you how we met if you tell me why Asher, someone I hold incredibly dear to my heart, is here in Promise with a goddamn handler?” Casey’s gaze immediately shot over to Ash who looked even more intensely at the ground. 

“I’m assuming that you’ve come here for a similar reason that Asher has found himself here, yes?” 

“God, yes I’m in Witsec- practically every fucking one here is, it’s not exactly a secret ‘round here.” Alice rolled her eyes, the barman tapping her on the shoulder and pushing a pitcher of beer and an extra glass towards her. “Look, Ash is practically family, none of us are going anywhere any time soon, and all we’ve got to do is talk about what got us here so why is he here?”

Casey opened and closed her mouth a few times, looking between Alice and Ash a few times before shaking her head a bit and composing herself. 

“Perhaps Asher would like to tell you about Hope County himself?” She offered, Alice whirling on him and staring until he offered a small shrug. 

“Good with me, c’mon Rook, I gotta introduce you to the gang.” She grabbed the pitcher and shoved the glass into one of his hands before grabbing his free hand and dragging him off towards the full booth in the corner. Casey moved towards them, mouth opened in protest only to stop and sigh, turning to the barman to order herself another dinner alone. 

  
  


Ash quickly found himself pulled into a booth seat next to Alice who made no time in pouring herself and him a beer and sliding it to the pair sitting across from her- the woman sitting next to her making an indignant noise as she was pushed back against the wall to which Alice responded by sticking her tongue out at her. 

“Gang, Asher Rook, yes pen-pal Asher Rook who is now for some reason in Witsec which he was just about to tell us.” She made a sweeping gesture at them all before turning back to him. “Ok, Hope County, what?”

A man sitting across from them sighed, pouring himself a drink before letting the woman next to him steal the pitcher away. He had tired eyes and old bleached hair, the roots a good inch or two grown in. 

“I’m Bjarni, it’s good to finally have a face to a name.” He introduced himself, putting a hand up to silence Alice’s protests unsuccessfully. “Alice talks a lot about you.”

“She does, I’m Bria by the way.” The woman next to him chimed, filling her cup and making sure to keep the pitcher close. She had long light brown hair pulled up into a messy bun and sharp eyes, giving him a quick once over before relaxing. 

“I’m Arwa, good to meet you Ash.” The woman next to Alice chimed, leaning forward to see him. She had a kind face and wore a pale blue hijab, giving him a welcoming grin. 

“I’m… Ash, yeah, nice to meet you all.” The introduction was awkward and unnecessary, but happened anyway. 

“Alright, we all know each other, Ash what the fuck happened to send you into Witsec?” Alice dropped a hand onto his shoulder to get his attention. “Something happened in Hope County?”

  
  


Rook sighed, Alice, and the rest of the table, pausing for a second as his posture shifted and the tiredness returned to his eyes. He looked the rest of them over, debating for a second before committing. Alice trusted them, he trusted Alice. That and Alice would probably stab him if he didn’t say anything… again. 

“I- Alright, so y’know how I became a Junior Deputy and all that- Alice told you guys and stuff?” There were collective nods, “Ok, so there was a warrant out for this guy called Joseph Seed- a fucking cult leader wanted for kidnapping and shit. So genius of a Fed has the Sheriff, two other deputies named Staci and Joey, and me all get in a helicopter to fly into his goddamn compound to arrest him. Genius idea right? Best one ever. Go into the head-fucking-quarters of the cult to arrest their leader. Obviously goes to shit, someone throws themselves into a blades as we’re leaving with the guy.”

“Helicopter crashes, everyone gets dragged out- summing it up, basically a guy named Dutch saved me and I was the only one not kidnapped and being tortured or drugged up. A bunch of shit happened, but essentially I arrested the ‘herald’ of each section of the valley, two of which were Joseph’s brothers by the way and the third a girl they like adopted- it was weird, then went to get Joseph. There were a lot of drugs and shit in the air and a lot of people and he got shot and died, no loss or anything, but the remaining peggies- the cultists- go fuckin ape and it’s a bloodbath until the National Guard shows up. They arrest and kill a bunch of people, but they don’t know how many got away so bam I’m in Witsec. Any questions?” 

The table was quiet for a second, Bria still taking a sip from her beer as they processed the quick summary. 

“How… how long did this last?” Bjarni asked, Bria putting her cup down slowly. 

“Um, I, uh, I think the National Guard said it’d been a, uh, a year and a half I think.” Rook furrowed his brows. He remembered he was surprised- they all were. It felt so much longer and yet they all thought that nowhere near that much time had passed… “But it’s a little hard to tell because the paperwork about when we went to arrest him was a little vague and… More or less a year and a half. Yeah.”

“Jesus,” Bria shook her head, “So, like… all of the other deputies, the sheriff, and the marshal were all kidnapped and tortured? Are they ok now and stuff?”

“Also, drugs?” Arwa leaned forward to ask, 

“A year and a half? What happened during that whole time?!” Alice asked, leaning towards him, eyes searching him for any scars or the like- eyes quickly narrowing in on his wrists and the rope scars still there. Her hand snapped down, pulling his wrist up. “What’s this?! Who did this to you?”

Rook blinked, taking a second to process all the questions and carefully pull his arm out of Alice’s grip. 

“They were, the deputies and sheriff aren’t mentally ok but alive, and the marshal died from more or less drug induced suicide? It’s complicated.” He shifted a little in place, trying to get comfortable with the disturbed looks on their faces. “The cultists made a drug called Bliss, it basically causes hallucinations and makes you susceptible to commands and stuff.”

Rook looked down to his wrist, rubbing it gently and pulling his other sleeve back a bit to show the matching scar on the other side. 

“These were caused by ropes, I was tied to a chair like once per week for a month or two and the repetition fucked my wrists up.” He pulled off his flannel, “And because I know you’re gonna ask,”

“This was a bite from a Judge- uh, basically wolves on like PCP, I got some scratches from them on my back too.” He pointed to the scar on his forearm before moving his tank top strap to show the scar on his shoulder. 

“This was from an arrow- there’s a matching one on my back because you have to push it through to not cause more damage.” He moved to his other arm, pointing out the bliss bullet scars next. 

“Bullet scars, specifically these were bullets laced with that Bliss crap to knock me out- I have more regular bullet scars on my back and torso.” He tapped his upper thigh twice then pulled his leg up to tap on his left ankle. 

“Thigh was getting shot in the same place twice with an arrow, ankle was getting caught in a wire snare trap- I was lucky it didn’t cut through my achilles tendon. Oh, and of course the pièces de résistance...”

He pulled down the front of his tank-top, showing off the wrath tattoo still on his chest. At least it wasn’t angry and red anymore- it had gotten infected at one point and was quite the bitch to deal with. 

“John, one of the Herald’s, gave me this- he believed you need to ‘carve your sins onto your flesh’ and decided wrath was mine.” Rook looked back up to everyone up, pausing at the look on their faces. They certainly all had scars too- hell Alice had a scar on her face from a knife while making an arrest- so why were they looking at him like that? “Uh… yeah, this one is a little weird I guess.”

  
  


“Asher, jesus fucking christ.” Alice mumbled, hesitating this time before taking his wrist to look at the scars on his arm and the wrath tattoo better. 

“Yeah this is… pretty fucked up.” Bria added, reaching over and taking another drink. “Like, fucking arrow scars? Rope scars? Wire fucking snare trap? A goddamn forced tattoo? What. The. Shit.”

“Yeah, I mean I’ve seen some fucked up shit but this is…” Bjarni trailed off, looking over to Arwa who nodded.

“Yeah, this just… yeah.” She took a deep breath, shaking her head a little bit. 

“I mean, they aren’t great but, it’s not too bad- I mean considering what happened to Hudson and Pratt this really isn’t that bad.” Rook stuttered a bit, trying not to pull his arm away from Alice and immediately hide the scars under his flannel again. “Really it’s not- It’s not that bad.”

“If this isn’t bad then I’m a little scared to see the other two.” Arwa mumbled, leaning back in her booth. Bjarni lifted his own beer to her in agreement before taking a drink. 

“Who did these to you? Wait, no first-” Alice took a deep breath, gently tapping the rope scar on his wrist. “Why were you tied to a chair? You didn’t mention any other scars involving that, what happened to you-” She took another breath. “Why were you tied to a chair once a week for a month or two?”

“Well, um, it was… it was from...” Rook trailed off, looking at the scars- feeling the burn from them as he yanked his wrists against the tight rope as his vision began to turn red, the song ringing out through the room and practically echoing in his skull itself. His throat going hoarse from screams as he tried to fight it only for the world to fade into nothing but red, _red,_ **_red_ **. 

_The slight cool pain of a knife on his wrist as he was cut free, blood spilling red from his wrist- the red of the blood from the neck he slit with that blade seconds later before cutting himself the rest of the way free. The blood spilling onto the floor, the cool of metal now in his hands as he fired again and again. One two three. One two three. One two three-_

  
  


“Asher?” Alice’s voice finally snapped him from the memory, the entire table staring at him with furrowed brows. Bjarni had reached across the table, his hand on Rook’s shoulder. One of Alice’s hands rested on his other shoulder, the other holding his hand tightly. “You back?” 

“Y-yeah, sorry I just… just zoned out for a second.” He forced a smile, Bjarni reluctantly leaning back into his seat. Alice didn’t move however, instead giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

“It’s ok, we all get it- honest.” Arwa forced a smile of her own, giving him a little nod. Bria sat back down properly in the booth, giving someone a thumbs up. 

“I hope you like french fries, I ordered some for the table.” Bria settled down, “Food is good for the soul, grounding and shit too.”

“Oh, yeah, I, uh, I like them, sure.” Rook shook his head a little, trying to shake away the lingering foggy feeling in his head. Alice rubbed his shoulder before letting go and pulling his flannel over his shoulders, Rook clumsily pulling it the rest of the way on. 

“Well, freaky cult shit aside, how long have you been in town?” Arwa asked, “Are you familiar with it all yet?”

“I’ve been here for almost two weeks now, but, uh, no not really.” Rook absentmindedly rubbed at his arm, “I’ve kinda stayed inside the entire time.”

“Well, damn, sounds like we’ve gotta give you a tour and shit now.” Bria sighed, 

“At least he found the best people for the job- I think the four of us are the only ones who know all the cool shit to do around here.” Bjarni nodded solemnly, “A responsibility we must uphold to its fullest extent.”

“We could stop by tomorrow morning and take you out on the town if that works for you.” Alice smiled, placing a hand back on his shoulder to give it another gentle squeeze. 

“Sure, yeah, sounds fine.” Rook managed to smile. The fries came out in record time- literally seconds later- served by a kindly looking old man with dark weathered skin and a fuzzy white beard. 

“Fries for the lot of ya.” He set the plate down, turning to Rook with a warm smile. “I don’t believe we’ve met yet, name’s Quentin and if you’re hangin’ ‘round this group I can tell I’m already gonna like ya.”

Rook couldn’t help but smile, finding the tension drain slightly out of his shoulders. “Name’s Rook, and if you’re familiar with this group I can tell I’m gonna like you as well.” 

Quentin barked out a laugh, reaching over to pat Bjarni on the arm and give a small mock salute to Bria before heading back into the kitchen. 

  
  


“Quentin is the best cook in the whole town- honest.” Awra piqued up, leaning forward to grab a few fries.

“True enough, but Rajan makes the best pizza in town- well best in a ‘it’s three am and i’m wasted’ kind of way.” Bjarni added, 

“Oh, Rajan’s pizza- God I can’t wait until Rook here gets to experience three am pizza with us at Rajan’s.” Bria groaned, the entire table chiming in agreement. Smiling, Ash reached forward to munch on a few fries, feeling more at home than he had in a long while. 

The fries were wonderful.


End file.
